The word is getting out

It's not longer really a secret. Some people still don't know, that's true, but everyone at my work and Shirl's work know about Carlos. To be honest, we're both done whining and crying about our potential bad news and we're back to enjoying the whole experience and telling people. Hell, Sheryl made pink and blue sugar cookies and took 'em to work. It's much better to be excited about things than scared.

I still have one or two more people to tell, and at that point this blog will be hooked up to Facebook, so I'm expecting some actual traffic. Wow, might people actually read my blog?

There is really no new update on Carlos, in case you're wondering. We go in for another ultrasound and (probably) an amnio in a month. Will we be worried and scared as this approaches? Damn right, but until then we'll have smiles on our expecting faces!

So... who is a gambler?

Carlos is! Now, before I get too far in to this, understand something, this is being written with a bit more of a sarcastic, lighthearted tone than you'd think this topic deservs. Why? Because Otherwise, I'd lose my mind.

So, without further ado, here's the scoop. The SCREENING (i.e. *not* a diagnosis) says we've got a 1:3 chance of Carlos having a chromosomal abnormality and about a 50/50 shot of him turning out completely healthy with no issues. Yikes. Scary? Sure.

So yeah, if this was poker Carlos has two hands to win. He's got high pair against someone on an obvious flush draw in the first and he's holding queens vs. ace/king in the other one. The good news is if this was the first case, I'm betting my ass off against the guy with the flush draw. I like my odds. 2 of 3 times I'm going to rape 'em at the table. The coin flip? Well, that is what it is.

The deal is that Carlos's 12 week nuchal fold came back with a measurement of 4.9mm. Not good. 3mm is the cutoff for "normal". Once you're over 4.5mm, then you end up getting told by the doc and genetics councelor some oh-so-scary news.

Where do we go from here? We've got another ultrasound schedule at week 18 and Sheryl has said she wants to do an amnio (this is a diagnosis). The amnio will tell us for sure if there is any chromosonal issues to sweat. The ultrasound will check out Carlos's ticker to make sure it's functioning normally. If both come back OK, then we're in the clear!

C'mon Carlos... have an ace up your sleeve, lil buddy...

Baby bumps and back to the doc

Well, it appears that bump is actually there now. I don't mean visibily you can see it (though Sheryl is certainly a bit bigger) as much as you can feel it. That. Was. Weird. We're just laying there one night, and like any exitedly expecting daddy-to-be would do, I just put my hand on Sheryl's belly. Strangely, there was this spot that was harder than the rest. Pretty cool!

Today we have our first trimester screening, which means we've got days ahead of us of worry that we had done such a good job of burying. This one screens for genetic problems like trisomy 18 (really, really bad) and 21 (Down's). The bad thing is, this is just a screening - not a diagnostic test. So instead of yes/no we get odds. So in essence Carlos's health is being handicapped like a bookie does a horse race.

Wish us luck, folks! We're positive about things, but it never hurts to have people praying for us and Carlos!

Carlos is moving!

Today Sheryl had her first OB appointment. I've seen Carlos twice so far and Sheryl got a third time on Friday. Today I got to see him for the third time. Well, the lil bugger is moving! Now, by move I don't mean some slow languid wave. I'm talking movement along the lines of a breakdancer... or something.

That, my friends, was pretty cool.

The rest of the appointment wasn't worth talking about. The doc took a peek at Sheryl's undercarriage (if you get what I mean) and that was about it. There isn't much more in the way of uncomfortable moments than being in the room while the doc is peekin' at your wife's goods.

Mmmm... boooooobs

So one of the benefits from my perspective - and I am sure I am speaking for 99.99% of the male population - is that momma's boobs get bigger. To this I say hells yes! What guy doesn't like bigger breastistis?

By the end of a pregnancy 2-3 cup size increases are common. Hmmm...Sheryl was that big pre-pregnancy, so by the end... um... wow! To be honest, we weren't even 10 weeks in and Sheryl needed new bras. Suh-weet! Can ya tell I'm digging this whole idea?

But, with this bonus, there is a catch...

At 10 weeks (with kid #1) the only physically visible signs of pregnancy are the bigger girls. Weight gain as a whole is minimal so far, so we're looking at the same body with bigger boobs. It's like a free... "augmentation". Not bad, right?

And here is where that shoe drops. Bigger? Yeah. Off limits? Unfortunately, that may be the case. Along with the gams growing like someone hooked them up to an air pump comes the drawback of pain for the ladies.

Wait, so let's get this straight. Your baby momma will have these big, amazing cans... that you aren't going to be able to brrrrrrumski at will? Awesome. That's like showing the chubby kid a bigger version of his favorite candy bar and eating it in front of him. Nice way to keep the goods to yourself.

Just a warning guys...

Early insight in to the "joys" of parenthood

Monday night me and Sheryl were over some friends visiting them and their newborn son. Baby Daddy is being a good sport and he's changing the kiddo's diaper. Suddenly, Baby Daddy screams like a 12 year old girl. Want to guess why?

No, the boy didn't spray him - I've heard about that a million times. Yes, that'd be a fun post, but the kid did one better. Kiddo projectile shat and got it all over Baby Daddy's pant leg and socks.

Now, keep in mind the lil guy was born 5 weeks early. So yeah, he's got the size of a kid that should still be in momma's belly. That said, the kid - I swear to you - launched poop from his butt over 18 inches. Swear to ya.

For those who don't know, I hate to wipe my own rear. TMI? Meh, deal with it. I still don't have a clue how I am going to handle changing diapers. Oh, and apparently newborns go through 8-10 a day.

Yep, some insight in to raising a baby. Can't wait for ours to projectile crap on me. That smell is sarcasm, not poop.

First vomit!

Whoo hoo! Shirl threw up for the first time yesterday! Ok, not that exciting, but I'll make fun of her, anyway. She got near the trash and that was that. Her pregnancy superpower of increased sense of smell took hold and that was the end of it.

So you know, yes, she knows about this blog and I'm sure I'll get yelled at for this. Too bad!

Clothing issues

Well, Carlos is certainly moving in. Sheryl's jeans are all too tight and we actually went shopping for maternity jeans yesterday. Normally shopping would be something I'd rather not be involved with, but this was a bit different/cool. The bad news? Remember that Sheryl is just a couple inches taller than a midget, so all pants need to be petites, or she ends up looking like a little girl wearing mommie's work pants.

On a semi-unrelated note, Sheryl and me are going to start getting our fat asses back in shape starting today. We'll see how this goes!

Where we're at on this ride

Well, today was a damn good day. We had our second ultrasound and Carlos, which, until further notice shall be the alias of my yet-to-be-born lovechild, is doing what any good embryo should be doing and that's growing. Heartbeat is in the mid 170's, which is great. Everything is text-book so far. And the best news? The subchorionic hematoma (big medical words for scary shit that can kill your unborn child) - if that's what it was - is nowhere to be seen. Hells yes, my friends. Hells yes.

Yeah, think about this next part for a second. The thing has been in existance, technically, for just six weeks now and Carlos is already pumping blood though his kidney bean sized body. If that doesn't make you say WTF, I don't know what will. Oh, and apparently Carlos is developing an appendix (he's wasting his time with that one), both brain hemispheres, and nubbin-like hands and feet are sprouting. At this point the pics I see online look more like an angry alien than a homo sapien. There's the latest about what he's up to in there while Sheryl is cookin' him in the oven.

Today we also met with the gentic councelor. I don't know if these people realize how scary the shit they tell you is to expecting parents. To sum it up, you gotta worry about three things: chromosomes 13, 18, and 21. If you got issues with 13 and 18, things are going to end very, very badly. #21 is the Down's chomosome. Still scary, but not deformed with no chance to live scary.

Yep, 'tis da troof!

No joke folks, yours truly is going to be a dad. You think you're shocked? Trust me, Sheryl (aka Shirl) and me are still floored... and we've known for almost a full month now.

As weird crap comes up, I'll be talking about it here. Sheryl puking and not being able to poop will be blogged about. Those will be can't miss posts, I can imagine. All of the scary crap I learn about, you'll get some info pertaining to it. Genetic testing? Yep.. as fun as watching The Exorcist on acid... and I'll talk about it when we get there. Yay.

So this is just the first intro post. NOBODY has a clue this is even live yet... right? If you find this somehow, more power to ya. You now know our dirty lil' secret... I'm a baby daddy. Shirl is "in a family way". Knocked up, whatever. What you won't ever here me say is this: "we" are pregnant. I didn't fail biology. I know how this shit works. I'm not preggo, I just have a beer belly.